Chương 156: Chapter 151 — Displaced Expert

Alric had been looking for Vale for quite some time, which was worrying because while headquarters was large, it was not quite large enough to misplace a clerk unless the clerk was avoiding him. That thought of struggling to find Vale should have been irritating, but it simply wasn't. It sat inside a warm bubble of happiness since the previous day and returned every once in a while. Maggie had worked.

Wine had gone in and brandy had come out, enough brandy that the matter had stopped being a triumph and become a kind of problem to be excited about. The best kind of problem. It was however a problem that Vale would put in columns while breathing through his nose. Alric was looking forward to that part a little more than he should have been. It had only been pointed out to him recently that Vale didn't know. He turned through the passage beside the common room and nearly walked into Seren.

She stopped neatly, because Seren seemed to possess the ability to stop and indicate politeness.

"Mister Alric," Seren said, holding a list and tilting her head to the side.

"I was coming to find you."

"Uh…" Alric said, glancing at the list before remembering.

"Have you seen Vale?"

"I have," Seren said straightening up.

"But there is someone here to see you." Alric looked back at her, then the list.

"Is the brewery on fire?"

"No," Seren said, tilting her head the other way and not moving from the path, "You need to speak to Gwyn, please." Alric stared at her for a moment, she didn't often seem pleading.

"Gwyn?"

"Terven's Gwyn," Seren said, lowering her voice slightly and watched him carefully.

"The bra Gwyn."

"I did know which Gwyn after the first part," Alric said, rubbing at his jaw.

"I thought it I should make it clear," Seren said, her mouth pressing thin.

"She is waiting in the common room."

"Without an appointment?" Alric asked, though he was already turning.

"Yes," Seren said, following beside him.

"I told her she could wait."

"Alright," Alric said, then stopped after two steps and looked at Seren again.

"Is this bad?" Seren did not answer immediately, which Alric didn't take as a good sign.

"She asked for you politely," Seren said, running one thumb across the edge of the paper.

"She did not look like someone bringing simple news." Alric let out a breath and turned toward the common room. Gwyn stood when he entered. She had been seated on one of the chairs near the wall, hands folded together in her lap, a small cloth bundle at her feet. The moment he came in, she rose too quickly, then seemed to regret rising too quickly and tried to become formal after the fact.

She wore a plain brown dress under a darker outer layer, neat enough to be respectable and the garment old enough to make respectability look like work. There was no measuring cord around her neck today. Somehow, that made her seem like a part of her was missing.

"Gwyn," Alric said, stepping inside and giving her a small nod.

"Seren said you wanted to speak with me?"

"Master Alric," Gwyn said, dipping into a curtsy with careful hands.

"Thank you for seeing me I... I know I should have made an appointment." Seren entered behind him and moved to one of the smaller tables, she gestured for the pair to use the table. She did not sit. Alric glanced at the chairs, then gestured toward them.

"Please, sit. First though, tea?" Gwyn's mouth opened but then she closed it and shook her head. She moved to the smaller table and sat down stiffly. Alric took the opposite chair. Seren remained standing nearby, which told him more than her face did.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Alric repeated, resting one hand on his knee. Gwyn looked at him, then at Seren, then back to him.

"Terven has been picked up as the king's tailor, you will need to find a new tailor for yourself." she said, keeping her hands very still. Alric nodded slowly, then he smiled.

"Good for him." Gwyn nodded once.

"No, truly," Alric said, leaning back slightly as some of the tension left him believing this meeting was good news.

"He did good work for me. Strange man at times, but he does very good work."

"He does," Gwyn said, lowering her eyes for a moment. The words were agreement. The tone was not and Alric's smile faded by degrees. Gwyn drew in a careful breath.

"I wanted to ask whether you had any other ideas in women's clothing," she said, looking down at her folded hands. Part of Alric's mind stopped. Unfortunately, another part accelerated, it opened doors, many of them. The first door had the bra behind it, which was already bad enough.

Behind that stood everything else he had spent a lifetime not thinking about very hard but still knowing existed because modern life had been full of windows, shops, adverts, laundry, catalogues, conversations, and women who had not needed to explain basic clothing to him for him to know the broad shape of it. Panties, stockings, slips, nightgowns, garters, maternity bras, sports bras. Underlayers for movement. Underlayers for warmth. Lingerie, o god not Lingerie.

He tried very hard not to think about lingerie inside a room with Seren and Gwyn. Regardless his gaze was trying to burrow a hole in the table.

"No," Alric said but it didn't even sound convincing to him. Bikinis. Seren and Gwyn both gave him a long stare. Not lingerie. Alric rubbed both hands over his face.

"No," he said again, lowering his hands and trying to sound like a man who had not just seen half a women's boutique march through his head.

"No. The first thing started as bit of a joke to Seren, and then it became…" Seren's expression changed by a fraction.

"A joke," she said, folding her arms slowly, her expression turning darker. Alric winced feeling the gaze.

"It began as one, you teased me about my socks, all is fair in administration."

"It did not remain a joke though Mister Alric," Seren said, lifting her chin.

"So I have heard," Alric said, looking away. It was impossible for the rumours not to have reached him, he lay in bed at night trying not to think about it. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Gwyn's hands tightened in her lap.

"It really does improve lives for women though," she said quietly, then seemed surprised at herself for saying it aloud. Alric looked at her properly. He had understood that Gwyn would have become the real expert, there were simply places where Terven could not go for fittings. Terven had the shop, the sign, the public face. Gwyn had the hands and the eye. She had been standing right in front of everyone from the beginning, and somehow the world had still found a way to place her behind someone else.

"So… Terven is going to the palace?" Alric asked, though he already disliked the answer.

"Yes," Gwyn said, nodding once with her gaze lowered.

"He has been taken into royal service. It is a great honour."

"It is… and his shop?" Alric asked, carefully but also suspecting the truth.

"It will be closed," Gwyn said, and her voice remained but anyone could tell she was trying to keep her voice steady.

"The king does not need someone who… understands women's underclothing." Seren's arms lowered. Alric did not speak.

"I was told this morning," Gwyn said, smoothing one thumb over the back of her other hand.

"Terven was kind about it. He said he would give me a recommendation and a small payment to carry me until I found somewhere else." Alric felt the guilt rise within him. He had given Terven a drawing. Gwyn had turned it into work. Women had wanted the work. The palace had taken Terven. And Gwyn had been left standing outside with only a recommendation in her hand as a reward.

"I came here to ask for advice, though" Gwyn said, lifting her eyes to him again.

"Go on," Alric said, watching her closely.

"Yes," Gwyn said, she tried to clear her throat.

"On how to set up a business." Seren looked at Alric then. Alric could feel the pleading in Seren's eyes and failed to ignore it; he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"I was having such a good morning," he said, letting his head fall back slightly letting a deep breath out his nose. Gwyn recoiled away from him as her eyes dropped to the table. Alric lowered his gaze at once.

"Not because of you. Sorry. That came out wrong," he said, leaning forward and placing both hands on his knees again.

"Other things just went well recently." Gwyn nodded slowly once watching him warily. Seren's mouth twitched, but her eyes remained serious.

"And now," Alric said, gesturing vaguely between them, "I am apparently involved in what I can only describe as displaced bra expertise."

"Master Alric," Gwyn said, lowering her head slightly, "I did not mean to impose."

"You are not imposing," Alric said, too sharply, then softened his voice and rubbed at his jaw.

"No, you really are not, and that is the point, I think." Seren watched him without rescuing him. Alric closed his eyes for a moment. There were several versions of himself that wanted to escape. One wanted to say he knew nothing and should know nothing. One wanted to throw money at the problem and leave before it became attached to him. One wanted to crawl into a ball and die of embarrassment knowing he might have to explain to women how he knew so much about their undergarments.

The correct answer sat somewhere more annoying. He opened his eyes.

"Seren," Alric said, turning his head toward her, "Can we get Gwyn something to eat and fetch Vale?" Gwyn looked startled turning her head sideways and watching Alric closely. Seren did not.

"Of course," she said, already turning toward the door. Gwyn rose again.

"Master Alric, I can wait if this is a bad time."

"It is always a bad time," Alric said, gesturing for her to stay seated.

"That is how I know it is important." The map was already on the table by the time Gwyn began eating. It was Alric's favourite illegal map of the city. Vale was pointing to several small buildings. Gwyn sat near the side, with a thick slice of soft bread, a wedge of cheese, and the expression of a woman who had not expected food to become part of a business meeting. She ate carefully at first, then less carefully after Seren placed another slice beside her without comment.

Alric stood over the map with his hands on the edge of the table. Vale stood to his side neat, attentive, and increasingly still. Seren stood near Gwyn, which might have looked casual to anyone who did not know Seren. It was not casual. It was a declaration of where the room's sympathy stood.

"Terven's old shop is out," Vale said, tapping one mark with the blunt end of his quill.

"Too expensive, too visible, and too closely tied to Terven himself."

"Agreed," Alric said, bending closer to the map.

"If Gwyn opens there, people think she is trying to take over his old life."

"Or failed to," Vale said, moving the quill to another street.

"Neither is useful."

"This one?" Alric asked, pointing to a narrow mark two streets away that Vale had pointed out earlier.

"Smaller," Vale said, leaning closer and resting one hand on the table.

"A former cobbler's shop. If I remember right, the son prefers card games to leather and is apparently discovering that creditors enjoy family history."

"How do you know that?" Alric asked looking at Vale askance and glancing back at the map, studying the position.

"Because my father considered it a few months ago, then gave up on it," Vale explained.

"To quote my father, it is respectable enough," Vale continued, tilting his head and putting on an accent.

"Not fashionable, or poor." Gwyn's attention sharpened.

"Does it have a back room?" she asked, leaning forward with the cheese still in one hand. Vale glanced at his notes.

"More I think, we will need to look at it tomorrow."

"It needs storage," Gwyn said, her voice steadier now that she had found work to stand on.

"Patterns must be kept flat. Strong cloth should not be packed with soft lining or it marks. If I take orders for working women and noblewomen both, the cloth cannot be handled the same way." Alric felt something ease in him. There she was. Not Terven's assistant. Not the woman let go. The expert.

"This one has a side entrance," Vale said, moving the pen to another mark.

"Larger. More expensive. Better placed." The conversation came around various options but the first still seemed to make the most sense.

"I am a royal factor," Alric said eventually, glancing up at Gwyn.

"Are you sure you'd want to go into business with me as a partner though?" Vale's eyes lifted slowly. Gwyn's gaze dropped as she considered it. Alric saw the look from Vale and frowned.

"What?"

"You seem to be getting comfortable with your newfound status," Vale said, folding his hands over the map.

"I am using tools given to me by people who complicate my life," Alric said, waving one hand.

"The guilds cannot lean on me the way they would lean on someone else. If Gwyn needs a partner who can't be bullied by guild law, I'm it." Gwyn stared at him. Alric noticed and immediately wished he had said it differently.

"As a business partner," Alric said, turning toward her and lifting both hands slightly.

"Not as an owner who tells you what to sew. I back it. Vale arranges it and runs the books. Seren drags me to it against my will but, you run the actual work, we will split profits and such but it will be fair." Gwyn lowered her gaze. For a moment, she looked younger than she had before. Then she took a slow breath and sat straighter.

"I would like that," Gwyn said, folding her hands in her lap.

"If it… is truly possible."

"It is possible," Vale said, though his pen had stopped moving.

"It may be expensive." Alric looked at him.

"How expensive?"

"Around two gold for all the startup costs." Vale said with a pensive expression. Gwyn's lowered her gaze, Seren winced. Alric considered it.

"Fine, easy enough." he said, nodding. Vale's stillness became more complete. Seren closed her eyes briefly. Gwyn nearly dropped the bread.

"What?" Alric asked, looking from one to the other. Gwyn had begun to smile. It was small, almost hidden behind the cup Seren had placed near her, but it was there. Alric saw it and felt the guilt shift. It did not leave. It became something with work attached.

"There is another matter," Seren said, looking at Alric. Alric braced himself.

"What is it?" Seren's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Do you actually know more, women's clothing?" Gwyn went still beside her. Alric stared at the map. There were safer lies. There were also stupid lies. Unfortunately, Seren had become too good at knowing the difference.

"Yes," Alric said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Some." Gwyn's hand tightened around the cup.

"I am not giving you a whole list," Alric said quickly, pointing at no one in particular.

"One idea already became a city problem, we will do this slowly, but I do think it will be very profitable." The meeting continued after that, but it became less terrible. Vale circled two shops. Seren made a list of what a woman entering the shop would need to feel before she trusted the place. Gwyn corrected three assumptions, added six practical requirements, and ate the rest of the cheese with the quiet determination of someone who had been too nervous to know she was hungry.

At some point, Vale asked for the name of the business. Alric suggested nothing at all because he still possessed a survival instinct in small, unreliable quantities. Seren suggested they not name it until Gwyn had seen the space. Gwyn looked relieved by that. Vale wrote down several temporary phrases anyway, all of them boring, safe, and merchantlike. By the time they were done, the afternoon had shifted in the windows. The light had gone duller, and the first proper cold of evening had begun touching the room.

Vale gathered the map with care and placed his notes on top of it.

"I will speak to the owners tomorrow," Vale said, tying the papers together with a narrow cord.

"Quietly first."

"I will prepare a list of tools and cloth with Seren," Gwyn said, rising with both hands smoothing the front of her dress.

"And staff?"

"Bring it to Seren," Alric said, nodding toward Seren.

"She'll make it work." One thought that should have occurred to Alric, Vale and Seren but did not, was that they had agreed to pay the king in kind on future businesses.

"Nearly," Alric said, rubbing a dry fragment of the Wickleaf between finger and thumb. No one answered, which was one of the cellar's better qualities. The meeting had concluded amicably, and Alric had retreated to a place where his blushes would not be weaponized against him. He turned to the wine barrels. There were too many. Maggie had worked, he needed to sort all the barrels here into what would become brandy and the twenty barrels he was keeping just for the barrels themselves.

"Right," Alric said, rolling his shoulders. The item box made the work completely unfair. By the time the brandy casks sat where he wanted them, Alric had made enough space, only then did he remember, he still had not told Vale about the brandy.